why does this
choosing your own death
demand you take more
with you
you are no pharaoh
and there is no sun god
I know of
that still craves
the blood
of those innocents
to appease
with these lives
leaving work
buying food
picking up dry cleaning
standing in line
do you sacrifice them
to a hungry god
or just
your ego
one bullet
is all you need
to do this right
let me show you
yes. I know. I know.
guns do not kill people
people kill people.
so give us rocks
instead of bullets.
You said it Susan!!!
Thanks Boomie–another thing I wish I didn’t have to.
I am not sure the rock thing works, some people like it more when It takes longer,er if you know what I mean
yep.
I guess it’s the “misery loves company” impulse along with the pent up rage and fear that seems to be part of the zeitgeist.
Whatever it is, it makes me sick.
Dark and to the point. I like it.
Thanks, Holly. I wanted to write something else today, but this jumped to the front of the line.
‘…or just your ego’. Perfect.
Yes, Nelle. The biggest god these people have.
Excellent! This goes back to our conversation about the right to take others down with you. End gun violence!
Yes, S. Please. Let’s end this. Now.
An argument I have made again and again. In utter futility. Yet it still needs to be made.
It does. Over and over, it does. When will we learn, finally?
Well said Susan! Thank you!
Thank you, Patricia.
Was touched by this poem, Susan. Greatly put.
Thanks, Danny.
The terror is worse than the death.
Yes–and both so awful.
This reminds me of a monologue at the end of the movie “Synecdoche, New York.”
The scene I am referring to is from 1:53:00 to 1:55:00
I think a lot of this has to do with existential doubts. Guns seem to put doubt in their sites.
Wow, Jeremy–that is such a powerful monologue–much more effective than my own–humbled that it would remind you of such a scene. I agree with you about guns.
i hear you on this one. i’m not a fan of them either.
Yeah–too much damage, too much suffering and death handed out too quickly with these. Guns make it too easy.
Very poignantly written, Susan.
Thanks–again, something I did not want to write.